A/N: Some romantic fluff. As promised.
Also, I am sincerely sorry for the delay in updating. I forgot I had a soccer tournament on Saturday, and although I had written most of the chapter, it was crap because I hadn't edited it at all. So, instead of giving you bad, unedited crap, I decided to give you crap that I had at least spent some time on.
Anyways....enjoy!
One day had passed, and again, the prostitute lay, completely dormant, in her house. The pink morning light had darkened to afternoon gold, and then to clear navy, again sprinkled with white specks.
"This is the most pointless case we have ever pursued," Ziva said to Tony as they observed the monitor showing the camera feed into the prostitute's bedroom. It was 9:00, and she was lying, asleep, in her bed.
"I absolutely agree. And I've been here four more years than you," Tony replied, leaning back in his chair and stretching. "I mean, what prostitute goes to sleep at 9:00, two nights in a row?"
"A very un-corny one," Ziva said.
"What? Uhh...I think you mean horny. A very un-horny one."
"Same difference," Ziva responded, as she did to all of Tony's idiom corrections.
"No, actually. It's not." Turning to the monitor that showed a perturbed, currently caffeine-deprived Gibbs, Tony said: "Boss, this is going nowhere. Ziva and I've been watching her all day and there's been nothing out of the ordinary going on. Can we just call it a day and go to bed?"
"Lemme think about that, DiNozzo...NO!" Gibbs roared. Tony recoiled and almost fell out of his chair. Ziva smirked. "DiNozzo, have we ever taken a case that was "pointless"? As David put it?" Ziva's smirk disappeared. Tony shook his head nervously. "Well, then, I'm glad that's settled. McGee!" Gibbs yelled as McGee entered Abby's lab. "Give me one good reason why you don't have a large black coffee in your hands right now!"
"Hey guys," McGee said into the camera, obviously hoping to avoid Gibbs' question.
"McGee! One good reason!"
"W- well, see, Boss," McGee stuttered nervously, "the Starbucks down the street is closed for the next few days because the owner was killed in a car crash."
"I said a good reason, McGee!" McGee widened his eyes in shock. Tony and Ziva looked on in amusement.
"Boss...the owner was killed. In a car cr-"
"I heard ya the first time! Why didn't you just go to a different coffee shop?"
"Well, you said that if I wasn't back in 10 minutes you would, and I quote, "shoot me in the knee", and the next closest coffee shop was another 10 minutes away."
"So it took you 10 minutes to drive to Starbucks and back?"
"No! Of course not. I came back here and fixed that old coffee machine upstairs, you know, the one that's been broken for-"
"Dammit, McGee! I was the one who broke it! I hate that coffee. Tastes like dirt." McGee started to back away slowly from a steaming Gibbs, who looked as if he were about to throw something. "Get me a decent coffee. Now." McGee scurried out of the room without a backwards glance.
Gibbs turned back to the camera, which revealed a slightly frightened Tony and Ziva, as well as an extremely clean, mold free wall. (Tony and Ziva had worked excessively on the wall that faced the monitors so Gibbs wouldn't yell at them for slacking of while they were supposed to be cleaning).
"What?" He demanded. Tony and Ziva shook their heads. "You two...keep doing what you're doing. That means no sleep. Until I say so. And turn off your damn light. The entire world can probably see through that window." Tony glanced doubtfully at the grubby glass, but responded:
"Will do, Boss. And good luck with that coffee." Tony smirked and Gibbs glared at him before shutting off the camera.
"I am glad that is over," Ziva said in a relieved tone.
"I know what you mean. A coffee-deprived Gibbs is never a good Gibbs," Tony said, a light attempt at humor. Ziva smiled and said:
"You know, we probably should turn off the light. We can't risk being seen."
"On it." Tony got up off of his chair and walked slowly over to the light switch while Ziva checked out his butt.
The pair watched the prostitute sleep for over an hour, talking about nothing in particular- coworkers, cases, caffeine- until a coffee-hydrated Gibbs finally checked in and told them to call it a night, although it was only eleven o'clock.
Ziva didn't bother telling Tony to change in the bathroom, as he had already seen her scars. Instead of donning a full NCIS sweatsuit again, she pulled on a her oversize t-shirt. Tony, who was wearing the same thing he had the previous night, felt blood pooling to his face in anger when he saw scars and bruises creeping down past the t-shirt to the top parts of her thighs, but didn't say anything. The subject was touchy, even though the two had reconciled slightly last night.
Tony and Ziva laid down together on their mattress, and for a few minutes, said nothing to each other, although both knew the other was awake. Finally, after the thick pressure of conversation had practically flattened them both, Tony said:
"You ever think about Gibbs?"
"Yes." Ziva replied. "I work with him every day. As do you." Tony tried to fight the thin, almost nonexistent tide of jealousy that has risen a little within him.
"No." He sat up and Ziva, hearing the rustling of covers, followed suit. They sat facing each other, Tony propped up against the wall, his legs stretched out over the mattress, Ziva sitting cross-legged only inches away from his calf, as Tony continued. "I mean, do you ever think about how he got to be the way he did?"
Ziva was silent for a moment. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, how did he get to be the impatient, bourbon drinking, not-afraid-of-anything, Arnold-Schwarznegger-like pirate he is?"
"Arnold Wartsnaker?"
"Never mind. Just answer the question," Tony said, rolling his eyes.
She paused before answer. "I believe that it started with Jenny."
"Really?" Ziva nodded. "I always thought it started with Shannon. He met her right before he enlisted, you know."
"I know that."
"Not that I would know anything about this," Tony grinned ruefully, but Ziva saw traces of longing in the wake of his smile, "but I think he loved Shannon more than the Navy. Which is saying something. When she died, he directed all of his crazy, contained anxiety, or anger, or whatever it was, into investigating."
Ziva shrugged and looked to the side. "Think whatever you want. I still believe that it started with Jenny." She was silent.
Tony glanced at her. "Care to share?"
"Well." She looked at him. "I know that you are going to say that Gibbs was already broken when he first met Jenny. But," she countered, although Tony hadn't spoken, "he had married 3 more times. And.... divorced 3 times. Gibbs will never be fully healed from his family's murders, but I believe that before he met Jenny, he was further along in the process than he is now. Jenny broke his heart," she finished softly.
Tony surveyed her expression before asking, "How do you know that?"
"Do you remember the first week I spent at NCIS?" Tony nodded; he remembered it well. It had been a week- a year, really- of curly black hair, a make-up-free face, eye-sex, and wondering what would come next. It had been a year before Jeanne.
"One of the first nights I was there, I saw Gibbs walking out with some woman. The Director was watching him." Tony nodded again, unsure of her point. "There was something in her expression- other than jealousy, of course-" at which Tony smiled- "....I couldn't place it. And then, a few months later, when she showed us that picture of her next that hut they had had to share...it was guilt. She was guilty."
"They loved each other." Tony's comment was more of a statement than a question. Ziva nodded.
"She left him," Ziva said, and although she was unsure of the truth of her words, she said it with a confidence that caused Tony to believe what she said.
"They were perfect for each other. Meant to be. If you believe in that sort of thing," he said absently. Both of their minds were slipping to the past, into a dark room, lit only by a desk light and the amber glow of alcohol. Tony remembered one part of their conversation, perhaps the only part of it where they had disagreed. He nervously chanced it again:
"It was inevitable." One part of him hoped she would disagree, as she had last time; yet another, perhaps more sensible part, knew that she wouldn't.
Ziva remained silent, her dark eyes glowing in the surrounding blue shadows. They were glued to his face. "I do."
"You do...what?"
"I do believe in 'that sort of thing'." Ziva's eyes bored into his, daring him to disagree, or even just to answer.
"The only difference is that she was too ambitious for her own good." Tony regretted the words as they pooled and streamed from his mouth. Ziva tipped her head to the side.
"Difference? The only difference between what?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.
"Nothing. The difference between nothing. Never mind," Tony said, his voice grasping and fumbling awkwardly to find the right words.
The air between them was thick and unanswered.
"The difference between what, Tony?" Ziva repeated quietly, her voice slow and sweet and husky.
Tony was unfazed by her obvious attempt to charm him. He tilted his head to the side, looked directly into her eyes, and said: "Ziva. I think we both know what I'm talking about."
"I am not certain I do." They both knew she was lying.
Tony scoffed. "You know I know you're lying, right?" He sighed as she remained silent. "But you obviously want to hear it explained. Of course." Only Tony could have noticed the slight twitch in her mouth. "Okay. Here goes. Ziva, the first year I knew you, I was in love with you." Ziva did not look surprised.
"I know that." Tony gave a short laugh.
"You know that."
"Yes, I know that. Because I think I fell i love with you too."
They surveyed each other.
Ziva sighed and said: "And then Jeanne came."
"And then Jeanne came," Tony repeated steadily. "And things got a hell of a lot more complicated." Ziva nodded heavily, her eyes now downcast. Tony reached out a hand and briefly touched her chin, causing her to look up into his eyes. "And I fell in love with her. I don't know why."
"it was because you had never met anyone like her."
"Maybe." Tony shrugged the words off, expertly burying the worn pain that rose up every time this subject came up.
"And then Jeanne left. And you did not want to talk to me anymore," Ziva continued, her voice free of emotion.
"That's not true. The only reason I didn't talk to you was because I was afraid I would fall in love with you again."
"And if you had?" Ziva asked, her voice calculated. "We are not compatible, Tony. We are not alike. We just... work well together. But any feelings we could have had for each other would have been too risky to obtain."
"It's too late to think about the consequences," Tony said, his voice equally as balanced.
Ziva drew a heaving breath and looked away.
"Ziva. I am in love with you." Tony said it with a sureness and steadiness Ziva was sure she never could have achieved.
She thought a moment before responding. "I am in love with you too." Her tone was businesslike and different from Tony's; however, their voices complemented each other perfectly.
"I'm gonna kiss you now," Tony said as he leaned towards her. Ziva was quicker; she pushed her lips onto his first, their mouths hot and tender against each other. The kiss was slow but deep. Tony wrapped his arms around Ziva, caressing her ruined, soft skin. She tilted her head back as he pushed his mouth down against her neck, trailing kisses across her skin. As time passed, their kisses became breathy and choppy, their movements shorter and rougher. They pulled back from each other, understanding and want evident in both their faces.
Neither had noticed that Gibbs' face had been present on one of the monitors for their entire conversation. Now, as he recognized the familiar signs, he turned away, shutting off the camera and with welcoming arms walked into a night that was to be filled with tears, contemplation, realization, and possible solutions of how to handle the situation tomorrow.
......and I think we all know what's going to happen in the next chapter.
But seriously. I was a little nervous about this chapter. For some reason, everyone seemed OOC. Please tell me what you think, because outof character-ness (?) has been something I've been worrying about the whole time I've been writing this story. (And yes. That is a shameless plea for reviews.)
But I have some bad news. School is starting for me on Monday, which means more homework. Which means less time to write. Which means fewer updates. The next chapter should be here early this week, but after that, updates for this story will be extremely irregular :( But please, stick with me for the next couple of weeks. Christmas break starts in 13 days for me (I'm wondering why they're having us go back to school at all) which will bring a shower of updates.
Thanks for reading, everyone! Review, review, review!